Some people are born to greatness while others have greatness thrust upon them. Neither of those describes me. I'm more of the hermit/crotchety/Pastafarian/mediocre type carbon life form. I keep living my life until I have wealth thrust upon me which will happen when I find that cached pirate’s booty that has been buried in the back forty. (Don’t ask me how, or why, pirates would bury their gold miles from the ocean and in the bush, they just did okay.)

Saturday, September 22, 2012

Red Dirt

This entry is being attempted on my iPad while sitting in a small cabin on the shores of PEI = Prince Edward Island using the two finger hunt and peck method on the small on-screen touch pad. So it will be short and not all that creative. The cool thing about being here is that it is two provinces away from where I am living, but only a 4.5 hour drive. My last province a 4.5 hour drive would get you not anywhere near into the middle, in fact it took about a short 12 hour drive to get you to the other side of the province.

Anyway nuff said about driving updates on provinces. This morning I woke to the sound of pitter pattering rain on the roof. I was sweating before I even got dressed as it is (was) warm and I have a tendency to be too hot on normal days let alone days the humidity is 100% or higher. I grabbed Thing One and Thing Two and headed out the door in my Wellies, after a little walking and some bush wacking we found a cool little red beach down a little cliff. The dogs had a LOT of fun as they ran in and out of the ocean, and I had fun just strolling around. It was quite an enjoyable little early morning stroll, sans screaming banshees.

Well gotta go as things are progressing and this is taking a bit longer than usual.

About Me

Iron Bess isn’t my real name, it is the name I use when I am working undercover for the CIA, M5, and the FSM. Every post in this blog is coded to send my secrets across the ether safely to Cthulu’s minions who will use the information to infiltrate all the governments of the world. You may have seen some of my influences already. Casual Fridays. Inspirational posters on the walls. Four hour budget meetings right after lunch. Employee evaluations. And the pièce de résistance, TV commercials. Diabolical.
In the meantime I hang out at Kitpu Estates pretending to be a hermit while trying to hide my ankle monitor as I await sentencing for that stabby little incident with the waiter who was trying to take my plate before I was done all of my cake. It was a trifling little matter, after all he still has his other hand.